Work Text:
Dwalin was going to die.
The rest of the company had managed to drift off to sleep, lulled by the gentle warmth of Beorn's house and the cushioning of hay piles after weeks of sleeping on the cold, hard ground. But even if Dwalin hadn't been on watch, he wouldn't have been able to sleep.
There were too many sounds and too many scents coming from the shapeshifter's storage room, which he was cautiously guarding.
The chief scent was the horribly fresh, horribly musky aroma of omega in heat coming from their burglar, of all people.
The hobbit had started to smell days ago, drawing jokes from the other dwarves, hard stares from Thorin, and even harder stares from Dwalin himself (though he was quick to look away before the others spotted him).
It wasn't that the company had never been around omegas (there were several amongst the group themselves), and they were hardly young bucks who ran wild at the slightest hint of an omega's cycle.
But a hobbit in heat was slightly different from a dwarf in heat.
Dwarven heats were subtle things that gradually picked up like a fever before coming to a head and abating.
Bilbo, on the other hand, had gone to bed three days prior smelling like the rest of them—slightly sweaty and stale—and woke up the next morning smelling like he'd been presenting to an alpha for a week.
The poor bastard had to change his pants, scrubbing away slick stains in the first creak they came to while trying to make himself smaller in the already-too-large green cloak Dwalin had given him at the beginning of their journey.
Since then, he had walked downwind from the dwarves, sweating with fever. Dori followed along beside him, partly to keep him company and partly to keep the burglar from killing himself out of embarrassment.
"Everyone goes through heat or rut," Dori had assured him. "We don't get a say in when it comes on. Nothing to be ashamed of."
"Tell that to Thorin," Bilbo mumbled, drawing Dwalin's attention. He strained his ears to hear. "I see the way he looks at me. I'm sure every warg within five miles can smell me, and I'll only slow us down."
"I don't think that's why Thorin's been looking at you," Dori said coyly, but Bilbo shot him a flat look.
"I hardly think the king of dwarves would show interest in a 'grocer' solely because of pheromones."
Their burglar was right about that at least—it wasn’t solely because of pheromones.
Dwalin knew Thorin like the back of his hand, and Thorin had been tripping over his feelings for the hobbit since they'd walked into Bag End.
It came as no surprise then that, once Gandalf had dubbed Beorn's house safe, it seemed their king had chosen to hit four birds with one stone: confess to the hobbit, knot the hobbit, break his heat, and continue the quest.
Dwalin just wished he would break Bilbo's heat a little faster.
He rubbed the spot between his eyebrows and sighed.
Then automatically reached for the knife on the side of his belt when the storage room door opened.
It was just enough for Thorin to peek out, but it was also enough for the overwhelming smell of sex to waft out from the room.
“Dwalin,” Thorin called quietly. It was dark in the house, but a lantern had been lit inside the storage room so Dwalin could see the sweat on his friend's brow and the flush of his cheeks. He was panting, and his wavy hair had curled tighter from his own sweat. “I need your help.”
Dwalin relaxed his hand on his knife. "Knot too small?" he teased. And then his smile dropped at Thorin's look. "Mahal, is it really?"
"Come here."
Dwalin would have rather walked outside and met the shapeshifted bear, but he knew Thorin wouldn't have asked for him if it wasn't serious.
Dwarves were highly protective, especially when it came to their mates, regardless of their second gender, and so for Thorin to ask him for help when Bilbo was in heat…
Dwalin stepped forward into the storage room and carefully closed the door behind him.
It smelled so strongly of sex and heat, Dwalin had to place a hand on the wall just to steady himself. And he was glad he did. Because the sight that greeted him nearly had him weak in the knees.
Their burglar was lying on his back in a makeshift nest of clothes, pillows, and feed sacks. In the glow of the lantern sitting on one of the vacant shelves, his spread thighs glistened with slick and Thorin's most recent spend.
Bilbo looked up at him in a daze, his honey curls stuck to his sweating forehead. He was panting slowly like Thorin was, and the freckled skin from his chest to his belly was flushed pink.
Dwalin swallowed.
"You can say no," Thorin said, and when Dwalin looked at him, it was very clear that he was exhausted. As he came and lay beside Bilbo in the nest, Dwalin saw that his friend's cock wasn't even hard anymore, though it was clear that it had been. The graying hair on his belly was sticky with cum, and his beard was painted with Bilbo's slick. "But we thought maybe you could help pick up where I've left off."
"Where you've…?" Dwalin stared where Thorin brushed a damp curl from Bilbo's forehead. It took longer than he wanted to admit to realize what they were asking.
Sharing an omega wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't exactly favored. But for Thorin to ask… "How many times have you knotted him?"
"Three," Bilbo said, his voice more of a croak than anything. “I need it again."
"Three?" echoed Dwalin. "Again? How much do you hobbits fuck?"
"How little do dwarves?" Bilbo bit back.
"I’m not able to satisfy him alone," Thorin admitted, cutting in. "Not like this. If you’re able to and willing, would you knot him?"
Dwalin looked from Thorin to Bilbo. "Ye alright with this then?"
Bilbo gave a jerky nod of his head. "I am."
"Mahal, save us.” He rubbed a hand over his face. Bilbo’s holes winked at him from the nest, as wet as the day was long. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it—their burglar had a sizable backside and a fondness for looking at mushrooms they came across on their trails.
He was pretty, too, for a beardless creature with pointed ears. Dwalin had heard him through the door when Thorin was going down on him. Would he moan that way for him, too?
“Alright,” Dwalin said, reaching up to take off his belt. “Don’t say I never did anything for the two of ye.”
They positioned themselves so Bilbo's head and shoulders lay in Thorin’s lap, the hobbit watching with shaky breath as Dwalin rubbed his thick cock between his folds, bumping Bilbo’s clit and making him gasp. The slippery sound of the hobbit's slick and Thorin’s cum was borderline disgusting—it made Dwalin harder.
He pushed in slowly. Thorin may have already knotted the hobbit three times, but that didn’t mean anything, and he was right—their pint-sized burglar was as tight as he imagined, squeezing around his cock, though his way in was certainly eased.
Bilbo’s face was a fucking picture. His stupidly soft lips gasped open, and his stupid eyebrows drew together as he tried to relax, bearing down.
“Aye, there you go, ye pretty bastard,” Dwalin growled. “Think this knot’ll be enough to satisfy ye?” He not-so-gently slapped the top of Bilbo’s cunt, making the hobbit jump and clench in a way that made him groan.
“Gentle,” Thorin chided, but Dwalin waved him off.
“Little fuck’s tougher than he looks.”
“Less talking, more fucking,” Bilbo gasped, proving him right. He pressed his heels into Dwalin’s lower back hard to make a point. And who was Dwalin to leave an omega wanting?
He pushed in more, grunting at the squeeze, but paused when he noticed Bilbo's subtle flinch. Voice quiet, as if just for them, he asked earnestly, “Is it too big, lad?”
Any other time, that question would be worth a holler, but he didn’t like the way the hobbit’s eyebrows pinched.
“I can take it,” Bilbo insisted. “I want to try.”
Dwalin eased out some more, then back in again, moving in small thrusts each time to give the hobbit time to adjust. A mixture of slick, white goo, and Thorin’s cum beaded around his shaft as he pushed in.
“That’s it, amrâlimê,” Thorin soothed, petting Bilbo’s chest and thumbing his flushed nipples. “You’re doing so well.”
“Aye, ye tight bastard, relax,” Dwalin said. He brought his hand forward and roughly ran the length of his thumb back and forth over Bilbo’s clit.
Bilbo gasped, jerking, but between the two dwarves, there was no running from it.
Dwalin felt his cunt tighten around him and then spasm, making him grunt and roll his hips. By the time Bilbo stopped shuddering from Mahal knew what number of orgasms he'd had that night, Dwalin was settled completely inside.
"Right," Dwalin said, catching his breath, “how do ye want me, burglar?”
“Slow,” said Bilbo, shuddering, “then… hard, please.”
"Aye. I can manage that."
***
Bilbo sang for him exactly how Dwalin wanted him to. Thorin had reached up at some point to hold Bilbo's knees to the hobbit's chest for him while Dwalin hammered home, punching little “uhn! uhn! uhn!” sounds out of their burglar with each thrust.
Bilbo came a second time around him with a pitiful little wail, flushing hot when Dwalin cooed at him, but didn’t so much as slow down. He even pinched Bilbo's clit between his fingers at one point until Thorin chastised him for being too rough, too mean.
"Hardly too mean with the way he's gushing," Dwalin said, but he was paying close attention to Bilbo's face, listening for any protests. There weren't any.
He held Bilbo's eyes as he moved. "Slippery fucking bastard," he said. "Should let Thorin fuck your other hole. Knot ye twice. Maybe then ye’ll be satisfied.”
"Dwalin," Bilbo said—mewled—his face red.
“Ye like that? Want two cocks in your holes?” He reached down and wiped his thumb through the mess dripping from Bilbo’s cunt and—pushed his finger into the hobbit’s ass. Not slowly, either. Entirely in one swift motion.
“Dwalin!” Bilbo cried, squirming, but Thorin held his legs firm, and Dwalin didn’t slow down his thrusts or remove his finger and—
“Aye, there ye go,” Dwalin laughed as Bilbo spasmed again, cunt shuddering tight around him like a fist. While he was breathless and twitching, Dwalin pushed another finger inside the hobbit's ass, curling them as he fucked into him, pressing his left hand down on his—
“Get your—hand—off,” Bilbo huffed, his face screwed up.
“Which one?” Dwalin asked, grinning. “This one?” He twisted his fingers in Bilbo’s ass. “Or this one?” He rubbed at Bilbo’s clit again.
The hobbit tried to close his thighs, huffing and blushing, until Dwalin took his fingers out with another laugh.
“No need to get all stuffy when I’m making you cream, burglar."
“No need to be rude,” Bilbo snapped back. His ears were still red.
“Maybe, but it does seem to be doing something for ye."
As if to prove his point, he stopped thrusting and instead ground his hips into Bilbo, smirking when the hobbit’s face did something complicated—his expression a mix of ecstasy and embarrassment.
“Feels nice an’ good in your pussy, doesn’t it, burglar.”
“Stop talking.”
“Fucking soaked. Your cunt’s gonna be a real mess when I’m finished.”
"Dwalin—"
“Gonna feel so fucking good on my knot. Can ye feel it? Right here?”
He ground his hips again, partly because it made Bilbo’s eyebrows do this cute little pinching motion and partly because he really was close. His cock was starting to swell at the base, and with the way Bilbo was so snug around him, he was genuinely a little worried about the fit.
“I don’t think you could take it, burglar," he teased. "Do you? Maybe I should knot outside.”
“No!” Bilbo cried, cheeks flaming at his volume. “No, I need it, Dwalin—"
“Aw. The little hobbit needs it?” He pushed forward again, stretching, stretching. “You sure you need it here and not in your ass?”
He didn’t miss the heat in Bilbo's eyes, the way he licked his lips, but both of them knew that wouldn’t be happening. Still, it was fun to tease.
“Dwalin, please.”
Dwalin pulled out then, enjoying the way Bilbo gaped around him, slick gushing while the hobbit cried out with the loss.
“Dwalin, Dwalin, Dwalin, please knot me, please, please, I—" Bilbo begged, twisted, writhed—
Dwalin laughed. “I can make more knots, lad.”
“No, I want—Dwalin, please!"
“Aw, wee bunny,” Dwalin said, grinning. And then he lined back up and fucked into him, hard, heart leaping at the moan Bilbo burst with.
His cock shoved up against Bilbo’s g-spot as he moved, nice and solid, but as his knot grew and the muscle of Bilbo's cunt tensed, Dwalin was finding it harder and harder to thrust forward until he was grinding against him again and—
"Lad," he groaned, not teasing this time, his eyebrows furrowed, "it's not fitting."
"It will," Bilbo panted, his voice mostly breath and sound. "It will—"
"It's not. I'm—"
His knot was growing too wide to push in smoothly. He'd been kidding when he said he'd knot outside, but now it seemed like that really would be the case. Sweat dripped down his neck. Each thrust of his hips stopped him at Bilbo's entrance. Even as wet as he was—
Bilbo's lip curled, and a sharp omega snarl tore from his throat, startling both Dwalin and Thorin. The hobbit's heels dug into the dwarf's lower back. Hard. "I said," he snapped, "it will! Fuck me."
Dwalin and Thorin shared a look. And then Dwalin took a deep breath—and shoved.
Bilbo's face did a sour pinch Dwalin didn't like, but then Thorin thumbed the hobbit's nipples again, gently pinching, and—
"Mahal, fuck," Dwalin groaned.
He slid completely forward, hips smacking into Bilbo's hips, tying them together. He didn't miss the burst of fluid that jolted from Bilbo as the hobbit came again, his cunt milking Dwalin's knot without mercy.
And he definitely didn't miss the way Bilbo leaned and tried to bite his shoulder, then Thorin's arm, too out of reach to do either.
Dwalin laughed breathlessly, his arms shaking as he held himself up.
"Well," he said at last, "was that good enough to break your heat?"
He met Bilbo's eyes and was genuinely taken aback by the affronted look on the hobbit's sweaty face.
"Break it?" Bilbo repeated. "This is only the first night. What kind of hobbit would I be if four knots was all it took?"
Dwalin stared. "You've got to be joking." He looked at Thorin. "Ye chose an actual fucking rabbit."
"And here I thought dwarves had stamina," Bilbo said. Gouding him.
It worked.
"Stamina," Dwalin growled. "Aye, I'll give ye stamina. I'll be knotting your ass next."
Bilbo's eyes were heated. "You'd better."